Dangerously Attractive
by Unwarranted Reference
Summary: The affect The Woman had on Sherlock Holmes has been a cast aside, forgotten, written off as damaging emotions. But when a stoic little robin moves into 221C, whose hummingbird friend has an affect on John, Sherlock finds that those emotions aren't quite as destructive as they feel.
1. Chapter 1

Robbyn Abbett stared at herself in the mirror. She was sitting on a chair that was a horrifying shade of pink while Claire Willard carefully ran a brush through her flat raven hair.

''Remind me again why you need to brush my hair?'' she asked, quite grumpily.

''We're going to go look at that flat I mentioned before today. 221C. That lovely old lady at the supermarket was kind enough to offer a tour.'' Claire said cheerfully. There wasn't much she could to with Robbyn's hair, since she had a pageboy hair cut that she generally did nothing with except wash it and flip it around. Robbyn frowned.

''I fail to see how my looks, or lack of them, are important for this.'' she muttered, hands coming together in thought.

''Well, I heard that the two men in 221B, the flat above 221C, are John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.'' Robbyn stared blankly at Claire.

''Are those names supposed to mean anything to me?'' she asked. Claire rolled her eyes, quickly explaining who the two were whilst Robbyn listened with fake interest. Claire made it apparent that the two men were both extremely attractive.

''Personally, I like John best. Sherlock is much too tall and skinny for me.'' she said, patting Robbyn's head and looking around for something for Robbyn to wear.

Robbyn had never seen either of the men before, but if Claire liked John, that meant that Robbyn wouldn't like him. Their interests in men were very different. Everything about them was very different. Claire with her bright honey colored eyes and long caramel locks of perfect, wavy hair and curvy bodice and full breasts to make up for her short stature.

And Robbyn with her short, lifeless raven hair and her tall, lanky figure and non existent curves and her flat chest and her piercing, cold gray eyes. Claire with her interest in fashion and beauty. Robbyn with her interest of crime and hospital dramas on the television.

But despite how it seemed, Robbyn truly wasn't jealous of her friend. People thought she was crazy to not be jealous. To put herself down in favor of raising Claire up. But Robbyn didn't care for looks or how people saw her.

She didn't like dressing up or putting make up on. She'd grown up in a mansion full of bachelors and the kind of men that wore suits and ties and generally fooled about. Her mother hadn't been around to show her all the feminine details a lady was required to know. She died a few hours after giving birth to Robbyn.

Claire, however, was raised in a manor full of fine, beautiful women. The experienced kind of females that had men begging at their feet. It had rubbed off on Claire, of course. She and Robbyn were polar opposites. That's why they got on so well.

''Well, I've done what I could with your hair. Time for you to get some clothes on.'' Claire said. Robbyn was wearing some shorts and a stay at home shirt. Claire was dressed in only a bathrobe. Robbyn went to her own room, catching a glimpse of what Claire intended to wear for today. A sleeveless red blouse which was sure to show a tasteful amount of cleavage, a small white skirt and white heels.

Robbyn shook her head, already pitying poor John Watson, whoever he was. She sat on her bed for awhile, staring at the clothes she'd picked out. A long sleeved black satin blouse, black business trousers and black heels that weren't too high, since she was already infuriatingly tall. She added only a little bit of mascara and eye liner, batted around her hair and looked in the mirror.

She wasn't exactly pretty, in a delicate, girly sense. Nor was she very sexy or gorgeous. She was reasonably attractive, she decided. And that was enough for her. She walked out of her room to see Claire in the living room, already dressed and ready. By now Robbyn had learned not to ask how Claire could get dressed so quickly. A magician never reveals her secrets and all that.

''You're ready, then?'' Robbyn said, buttoning up her blouse. Claire nodded.

''Yes, now grab your purse and let's get moving!'' she cheered, marching out the door, and sighing Robbyn following behind. Claire had a magic power it seemed, when it came to getting a taxi, because the minute she raised her hand as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, a taxi came to a halt. The girls climbed in, Claire triple checking her make up in a tiny mirror she'd extracted from her purse.

Robbyn sat silently as Claire chattered away about how attractive John was, and how she couldn't wait to meet him. ''An ex-army doctor, Robby! Can you imagine?'' Robbyn shook her head slowly.

''I bet you're dying to know what Sherlock looks like.'' Claire said slyly. Robbyn really wasn't, but she nodded anyway. Maybe he would be good looking. ''What's this? Robby, you haven't put any lipstick on!'' Claire scolded, and Robbyn sighed.

''Come on, then. Put some on.'' Robbyn opened her purse, took out the tube of red lipstick and applied some. It was one of the presents that Claire had gotten her for last year's Christmas. She put the lipstick back and gave Claire a look that said, 'Happy?' ''Very.'' said Claire.

The taxi stopped and Robbyn payed him. It was her turn this time, since Claire got it last time. The girls stepped out of the taxi and toward 221B Baker Street. Claire rang the doorbell once. A few moments passed, and when she was about to ring it again, a lady who Robbyn assumed was Mrs Hudson answered the door with a kind smile and greeted them.

''Good day, girls. Lovely to see you again, Claire. Who's this?'' she asked, checking the time on a clock in the hall and glancing at Robbyn. Claire nodded eagerly.

''Oh, this is the Robby I was talking about yesterday.'' she said, grinning. Mrs Hudson looked surprised, and Robbyn knew that she'd been expecting a man. Robbyn nodded at her.

''Good to meet you, Mrs Hudson.'' she said, offering a slightly forced smile and shaking the woman's hand. Mrs Hudson smiled and accepted the handshake.

''Yes, good to meet you, too. Well, I suppose I'll show you the flat, and then introduce you to the boys?'' Claire's eyes lit up and she nearly jumped for joy.

''Sounds like a good idea!'' she said, and Robbyn fought back a sigh. Mrs Hudson led them to the basement flat. It had been recently fixed up. There was already some furniture. All it was missing was a coffee table, some arm chairs and a television. The two rooms already had drawers and large mirrors in each. Robbyn offered the room with the biggest closet to Claire, since Claire had more clothes and shoes than she knew what to do with. Claire let out a squeal and hugged Robbyn in front of Mrs Hudson, and Robbyn awkwardly patted her shoulder.

It was when Claire did things like these that people started to assume they were a couple. The kitchen was fairly big, which was good, since Robbyn liked to cook things. She was good in the kitchen, like her father. The flat was very promising, and she and Claire decided that they would take it. Mrs Hudson looked relieved.

''Wonderful.'' she said. ''Time to meet the boys, then?'' Claire nodded anxiously, and Mrs Hudson took them up from 221C to 221B. Robbyn went hesitantly, not really wanting to witness poor Dr John Watson blushing up to the tips of his ears from Claire's advances. Mrs Hudson entered the flat, advising the girls to stay in the doorway a moment.

''Sherlock? You'd better have some clothes on and not that sheet!'' she called into the room, and Robbyn and Claire exchanged a glance. Silence. Mrs Hudson glanced at the girls with a knowing look. ''This usually means his thinking and, thankfully, completely dressed.'' she said, gesturing for them to come in.

''Hello!'' Before either girl could move, a voice came from behind them, making Robbyn spin around and Claire shriek quietly. A man she assumed was John Watson stared at them in confusion, and when Claire's eyes lit up in a way Robbyn hadn't thought possible, she knew her assumption was right.

''Well hello there...'' Claire said, twirling a lock of her wavy hair flirtatiously. Robbyn elbowed her in the side, which made Claire at glare her momentarily.

''Hi, I'm Robbyn Abbett, good to meet you.'' she said, holding her hand out. John shook it. ''Good to meet you.'' he said in return, and Robbyn nodded at him, which was also a signal to Claire that she could now start flirting.

And flirt Claire did. It was then that Mrs Hudson said she had to take a call, but that Robbyn could go ahead and say hello to Sherlock. He was sitting on an arm chair and watching her. Robbyn stared at him for a long moment. Curly, impossibly soft looking black hair. Piercing irises of a unique color. Pale skin, tall figure, long legs crossed and hands folded in thought.

Robbyn shook her head microscopically and walked toward him. ''Robbyn Abbett.'' she said, holding out her hand. Sherlock stared at her. She waited. He shook her hand.

''Sherlock Holmes.''

**Sherlock**

Sherlock was, as always, thinking when Mrs Hudson walked into the room with John and two women, one of which had caramel blond hair and was flirting shamelessly with John, who was flirting right back. The taller woman with raven black hair was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, a stoic facade on her features while the shorter one sat with John on the sofa and talked a mile a minute.

Sherlock was certain the blond would talk poor John's ear off, but John didn't seem to mind one bit. As if she'd finally decided that there was no way of walking out of here without her friend taking notice, the woman sat down stiffly in the wooden chair where clients usually sat. she looked at Sherlock with cold, calculating gray eyes. Like she was trying to determine whether she would regret starting a conversation. She wasn't particularly stunning, but very attractive, and there was an air of mystery about her. And that definitely caught Sherlock attention.

He looked her over. She was almost as tall as him, and Sherlock was secretly glad that she wasn't. He noticed the high heels on her feet. She must be shorter than he'd first observed then. He studied her face. Smooth, pale skin and full lips adorned with red lipstick. Short black hair that was naturally shiny and straight and piercing gray eyes that shone like her hair when the sun light that came from the open window behind Sherlock hit them.

She was still tall, despite her heels. She wasn't skinny, per say. She was thin, but not disgustingly model thin. She watched the room around her cautiously. She didn't speak. Sherlock didn't know if he was glad of it, or disappointed. Her name was Robbyn Abbett. She worked full time as a secretary for an important individual. She didn't work on the weekends and some Thursdays. She lived with her friend, who's name Sherlock had yet to learn. She came from a wealthy family, raised by her father because her mother wasn't around, which resulted in her not being very lady-like.

But if she was from a wealthy family, why did she need to live in a flat with her friend? And what happened to her mother?

''Claire told me things about you.'' Sherlock snapped out of his deductive trance. He'd been staring.

''Oh? Like what?'' Robbyn looked at him.

''The only consultant detective in the world. You're good at what you do. Perhaps even too good.'' she said, crossing her legs and leaning back in the chair. Sherlock offered only a small nod.

''Your friend is absolutely correct.'' Robbyn arched an eyebrow.

''Really?''

''I am.'' he replied.

''She said you could give someone one look and already tell what their whole life story was.'' Robbyn countered.

''That I can.''

''How modest.''

''I'm not, really.'' Robbyn stared at him. Sherlock stared at her. It wasn't a conversation. It was a tennis game. Striking back and forth, sometimes before the other player could finish their sentence.

''So, have you done it to me?''

''Done what?'' Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

''Deductions. My life story. Have you got it?'' Robbyn replied casually.

''Age roughly around thirty to thirty four, no more, no less. You work as a secretary for someone. Someone very important, judging by the way you dress and you don't work on the weekends.'' Robbyn nodded when he paused.

''So far, so good. What else?'' Sherlock continued.

''You live with your friend, that much is obvious. But you come from a wealthy family, raised by your father and possibly many uncles because your mother wasn't around to show you how to act like a lady. You aren't insecure, but you accept that people regard your friend as better looking. You put yourself down to raise her up, but you don't realize that there are different types of attractiveness, do you? Your friend just happens to be one of them and you are another.''

Robbyn's eyes didn't move from his own. John looked up from Claire in surprise. Sherlock realized what he'd just said. He'd just complimented her. In a round about way. There was no taking it back now, and if he tried, he'd look like a fool. So he didn't. Robbyn didn't urge him forward, but he went on anyway.

''What I cannot guess, however, is what happened to your mother or why, if you come from a wealthy family, you have to resort to living in a basement flat with your friend.'' Robbyn looked stiff, staring at Sherlock intensely while he stared back. Claire and John watched in amazement. Robbyn uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, dangerously close to Sherlock, peering at him as though he were something confusing. Something to study as he'd done to her.

''How do you do it? How do you know?'' she asked quietly, searching his eyes as if she would mind some sort of mind reading machine among them.

''I don't know.'' he said, a small, smug smirk on his lips. He could feel the heat of her breath. But instead of repulsive, Sherlock found the proximity strangely enticing. An emotion he'd never truly felt since the Irene Adler incident. ''I see.'' A long moment passed, and John cleared his throat,

''Shall we leave you two alone?'' which made Robbyn lean back in her chair quickly.

''What! No. Claire, come on. We're leaving.'' said the brunette, and Claire pouted.

''Now? But-'' She was cut off by a single glare, and nodded. Robbyn grabbed the blond's hand and dragged her away, and Sherlock noticed Claire make a phone gesture with her hand toward John and mouth, 'Call me.' John nodded and grinned at her before she was pulled away by her intriguing friend. When they were gone, John stood and looked at Sherlock, who was back in his thinking pose.

''Alright, what was that?'' he demanded, and Sherlock looked back up at him.

''What was what?'' he asked, clearly still affected.

''_That_. Don't tell me you're blind to that as well.'' John said, crossing his arms.

''It was nothing.'' he said, traveling from his arm chair to the sofa, stopping to grab four nicotine patches from the desk. John shook his head.

''Liar.'' And he was right. Absolutely.

**_Author's Note: I know I'm still working on 'You're Just Like Me', but I have a bit of Writer's Block when it comes to that, and this idea was just begging to be written. Their names are Robbyn Abbett and Claire Willard. Robbyn does seem like the main character here, but really, I'm trying to make it so everyone is._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Claire** stared at Robbyn in bewilderment, arms crossed as she sat on Robbyn's fluffy pillows. Robbyn was pacing wildly, still dressed in what they'd gone to 221B in. Claire had already changed into a night gown.

''Robby, I don't understand what's going on with you.'' she whined, hugging her own pink, heart shaped pillow. Robbyn continued pacing, taking a drag of her cigarette and breathing the smoke out. Claire exhaled.

''Does this have anything to do with Sherlock Holmes?'' she asked smoothly, and Robbyn put out her cigarette in a somewhat violent way, making Claire recoil.

''Of course it doesn't.'' she muddled in that way which told Claire that Robbyn was lying. Claire frowned.

''Robby, you can tell me anything. You know that. So tell me.'' she demanded, crossing her smooth, sun kissed legs. Robbyn twitched, lighting another cigarette.

''He's gorgeous, I'll give you that.'' she muttered, shaking her head and folding her arms against her chest. Claire rolled her eyes.

''That's not what I meant. What happened between you two before; that's why you're pacing around.'' Robbyn looked like she was contemplating the idea of conjuring up a lie, but of course, that wasn't going to escape Claire, so she simply nodded.

''See? Things are so much easier when you just tell the truth.'' Claire cooed playfully. Robbyn shut her eyes, and Claire knew that this wasn't the time to be making jokes.

''Look, why are you so freaked out about this? It means you like him, right?'' Robbyn grimaced.

''No...'' she said. Claire grasped for another phrase.

''Are you aroused by him, then?'' Robbyn stopped and stared at her, then burst into giggles. Claire grinned in a way that was not unlike Cheshire Cat.

''Just imagine it, Robby. You... Him... The sheets... A magnifying glass.'' Robbyn clutched her stomach, breaking down into a fit of laughter and Claire soon joined her as she said even more explicit things involving Robbyn and the detective. She even went as far as to impersonate him.

''I deduct from your underwear that you're expecting some serious sexy times.'' she said, sounding ridiculous while attempting to imitate Sherlock's rumbling baritone. Robbyn shook her head, breathless while trying to stop laughing.

''No, no, no! Could you imagine what would happened if he suddenly crept in through your window in the middle of the night and said in that delicious voice, 'I must preform an experiment'.'' Claire paused, watching Robbyn's reaction, then grinned. ''_Beneath the sheets_! Dun dun dun!'' Robbyn fell over on the bed laughing, with a firm hold on her cigarette so it didn't fall. Claire laughed with her. In that moment, she was very glad to be Robbyn's best friend. Robbyn put her cigarette out.

''You're right. It really is no big deal.'' she said reasonably, and Claire nodded.

''So you'll be okay if we move out tomorrow?'' she asked hopefully, and Robbyn laughed.

''What? Really? Eager much?'' she teased, throwing the contents of the ashtray out in her trash bin. Claire grinned at her, standing up on the soft bed. Robbyn had gotten used to her doing that, for despite her scoldings, Claire did so anyway. It was fun.

''He's excellent, Robbyn. I bet you that I'll have him in my bed in no time.'' she said with a confident swing of her hips.

''Who, Sherlock?'' Robbyn inquired, looking befuddled.

''Dear god, no! He's yours. I'm talking about the hunky army doctor.'' she declared as Robbyn lay on the bed next to her feet.

''You can have Sherlock. Hell, do you suppose he's any good in bed?''

''Who, John?''

''Sherlock!'' Robbyn arched an eyebrow.

''Maybe. I think he's a virgin.'' Claire chortled.

''What? Him? You've gotten a better look at Sherlock than me. He's just as delicious as John. I'm willing to bet he lost his virginity when he was in high school.'' Robbyn shook his head.

''Did you see what he looked like? When our faces were close together. Slightly fazed.'' Claire thought for a moment, then nodded slowly in agreement.

''I suppose you're right. How cute!'' Robbyn blinked.

''Cute?''

''He may seem high and mighty and mysterious, but he'd be a blushing mess under the sheets! He probably doesn't even know where to put it!'' Claire laughed, and Robbyn frowned and arched an eyebrow. Claire grinned.

''Not nice?'' Robbyn grinned back.

''A bit not nice, yeah.''

''Sorry.'' Robbyn sat up.

''We should probably go to bed if we're moving in tomorrow.''

''Well, how do you know we're moving in tomorrow? It was just a passing idea.'' Claire said innocently.

''I strongly suspect you informed Mrs Hudson of it while my back was turned.'' Claire removed herself from her friend's bed and chuckled.

''You know me so well.'' Robbyn scoffed.

''That can be both an advantage and an inconvenience.'' she said, though Claire knew she was kidding. Claire feigned hurt.

''You're so mean. Now, off to bed.'' she sang, dancing out Robbyn's door. She heard Robbyn sigh, and chuckled. She hadn't really told Mrs Hudson that they would be moving in tomorrow. She wasn't so cruel.

~ oooo ~

**Robbyn** was in hell right now, a week after she and Claire went to look at 221C. She had reasoned that she'd gotten used to her friend's obsession for clothes. And shoes. And make up. But she hadn't.

''Do you think this lipstick would go good with this shirt?'' asked Claire, who was standing in front of a mirror. Robbyn sighed for the fiftieth time.

''Yes.'' she groaned, burying her face in her hands.''You look spectacular in everything. Can we go now?'' she demanded. She hadn't put an extreme amount of effort in her appearance today, since they were going to be doing a lot of lifting and sweating.

She'd put on some tight jeans and her favorite Star Trek shirt, which said in big, bold blue letters: 'I am Khan'. Her hair was brushed back, as per usual.

''We're going to be lifting things, Claire. Don't put on a skirt and high heels. Try jeans. And running shoes. Your favorite pink ones.'' Robbyn said, because she knew that huge brown boots was her style, not Claire's. Claire wouldn't be caught dead in the boots Robbyn was wearing.

Claire considered her words, then nodded and went to put her clothes on. Robbyn left Claire's room and waited for her. It still took at least twenty more minutes before Claire was done, and when the blonde Willard emerged from her bedroom in the outfit Robbyn suggested, Robbyn was standing in the kitchen, stuffing her face with a corn muffin. Claire made a face.

''Oh, gross.'' she moaned, walking out the door. Robbyn followed, still munching on her muffin.

''They're really good, I don't get why you hate them so much.'' Robbyn mumbled around her treat. Claire scoffed.

''They're fattening, Robby. Not that you ever get fat.'' she huffed. Robbyn grinned.

''Yes, you should have been the one to acquire that talent.'' she admitted. Claire shook her head.

''In a way, that would be a bad idea, since you eat like a pig and I don't. I wouldn't need the talent if I kept eating the way I eat now.'' Robbyn knew by now not to be offended, since Claire often said things like that. They weren't insults. Merely a truth that Claire didn't know how to sugarcoat, and Robbyn appreciated it when people didn't sugarcoat things.

''Oink oink.'' was all Robbyn replied as they got into a cab.

''The moving van should be there already. The guy texted me.'' Claire declared. Robbyn shrugged, finishing her muffin. A few minutes passed, and Claire payed the cabbie as she and Robbyn exited the car. The moving van was parked close to 221B. Mrs Hudson was talking cheerfully with a rather jaunty looking young man. Claire waved at the two as she and Robbyn walked up.

''Hello, Mrs Hudson! Hi, Tom!'' she called, while Robbyn remained silent as she checked her phone for any messages from her uncle.

''Good morning, girls!'' said both Tom and Mrs Hudson in unison, which made Robbyn's head snap upwards in astonishment. Claire stared at them, and Tom burst into giggles.

''I've been waiting for you two to get here so we could do that!'' he sang happily. Tom was an old friend of Claire's, so Robbyn didn't really know him at all. Pleasantries with the movers were exchanged and assurances that she and Claire could get the furniture down were given. Tom and Harry were sitting in the van, and every so often they would look back at the girls to make sure they were okay. Robbyn was staring at a coffee table.

''Okay, you pick up this half, I pick up this half.'' she said to Claire, who sighed and did as she was told. They managed to carry the piece of furniture down to 221C without falling apart, and so the morning went somewhat peacefully as they did their job of making their apartment feel like a home.

Author's Note: I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE~ Hey there, reader. What's up? How ya been? Great. Well, I've been dead. But now I live. I'll be trying to update stories. And I started a new one but I'll try not to post it until I've updated the other story at least two times. Wink wonk. ;) love ya.


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